


A First

by the_gay_sea_witch



Series: The Hunter's Fable [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-01-05 06:30:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18360524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_gay_sea_witch/pseuds/the_gay_sea_witch
Summary: Some unexpected feelings crawl their way into the Inquisitor's heart





	A First

Cazador could remember saying it to his parents, his brother, his dear twin sister. But never to someone he was… involved with. He had to keep a part of himself secret for so long, he never found time for an emotion as strong as that. But now, years later, at the worst possible time, Caz was hit with the sensation of that feeling.

It happened on a day like any other day. Cazador was making his rounds. He had played some Wicked Grace with Varric, talked politics with Vivienne. He’d even agreed to partake in a drinking contest later that night with Iron Bull (which he will most certainly lose). 

Cazador had made his way up the spiral staircase to the library, to the little nook with a red velvet chair and just enough light to read. And it had hit him, like a stampeding druffalo. Dorian was reading some book about Maker knows what. His jaw rested on his hand, which was curled into a fist, his grey ears were fixated on the page in front of him, slowly moving over the words. The light from the small window cased a large shadow, enhancing the angles of his face. Then Dorian had realized that Cazador was there and had given him a crooked smile, eyes lighting up.

I love you.

It’s what Cazador wanted to say, but instead he managed to wrestle out a “hello Dorian”. And the conversation continued as if the rouge hadn’t come to this realization. 

Hours later, after losing the drinking contest (as expected), Caz sat on the rug in front of his fireplace, his dark brunette hair out of it’s usual ponytail and hanging in his face. His deep blue eyes stared into the fire as he drunkenly pondered on his feeling for the Tevinter Altus. 

They had only just decided that they wanted more out of their relationship than flirting and sex. This was very new, to both of them. But, as Caz sat there, he wondered how he hadn't realized it earlier. Of course he loved the mage. He had known from the moment he saw the Tevinter man that he was a goner. Caz shook his head, running his fingers through his tangled locks. He breathed a long sigh. The only thing stopping him from pacing was the fact that he could barely stand, let alone walk straight. 

The rogue didn't remember exactly how he got back to his room. Only that it involved Cassandra and a lot of curse words. Dorian had stayed in the library, deciding that he'd much rather read than watch his partner drink himself into a stupor. Cazador wondered if he was still there, and for a moment thought he should go check. But he quickly decided that was a bad idea. He didn't want to say anything he might end up regretting. Also, there was a lot of stairs between Caz’s room and the library. 

Cazador decided that was enough thinking for one day, and crawled over to his bed. He was barely able to move the covers out of the way before he face planted into his pillows. 

For days, the rogue sat on this information, unsure if he should share his feelings. The last thing Caz wanted to do was pressure the Altus into a response. So after cleverly avoiding his feelings for a week, he decided that he’d wait until Dorian said it. If he ever said it. 

What if he never said it?  
What if one of them ended up dead?   
What if they finally killed Corypheus and Dorian decided to return to Tevinter before he can tell him?  
What if…

“Inquisitor.”

Cazador was pulled from his thoughts by a concerned antivan voice. His blue eyes rose to meet Josephine’s brown ones, as well as the eyes of his other advisers. Caz awkwardly straightened while clearing in throat, eyes falling back to the map of Thedas on the oak table. The advisers exchanged a glance before returning their stare to the distracted rogue in front of them. After a few moments of silence, and Cazador had finally composed himself, the war meeting continue, but it was clean that Caz wasn’t fully there.

That night, the Herald sat at his desk working on some reports. Caz was past the point of no return. His eyes were barely open and his vision would blur every now and then. It didn’t help that his hair was in his face, but at this point, the rogue was too tired to care. Cazador had only just began to doze off for the seventh time that evening when he heard the shuffling of boots on the stairs. He heard a soft “tisk”, which caused him to open his eyes. They rose to meet the steel eyes of Dorian. A goofy, exhausted smile appeared on his face, his eyes lighting up behind his dark hair.  
“Amatus, what are you still doing up?” Dorian began, walking towards the desk. 

Caz only gestures to his desk, to the piles of paper yet to be gone over. It occurred to him in his cloudy mind that he could have asked Dorian the same thing, but the mage was already talking again. 

“There are bags under your eyes, you know? They’re hideous.” The Tevinter man stated. Caz scoffed quietly, his eyes softly staring up at the man he loved. The corner of his mouth twitched, his heart racing. 

“C’mon.” The mage says, pulling the tired rogue to his feet and leading him to the bed.

Dorian makes him sit on the bed and proceeded to undress the half asleep, bearded man. Caz allowed himself to be manhandled into whichever position made it easier to remove his clothes. Once the Inquisitor was completely undressed, he flopped onto his back, eyes closing. He was just about to fall asleep again when he felt himself being shifted again, this time ending up at the head of the bed, with the blankets over him. Caz felt the pressure of a warm hand on his naked chest, which he reached up to hold with his right hand. His ocean blue eyes opened to see the chiseled face of his Tevinter lover. A soft smirk pulled onto the mage’s face as they both watched each other. The rogue squeezed his hand in response. Dorian began to pull away, but Cazador stopped him by lightly wrapping his hand around the mage’s wrist. 

“Stay?” He asked in a whisper, searching the face above him. 

Dorian scoffed, rolling his eyes, but the little smile he pointed in Caz’s direction was enough to tell him he meant nothing by it. After a few moments, (Which was surprising, there are so many buckles. How in the Maker’s name did that only take moments?) the mage’s robes joined Cazador’s on the floor next to the bed. Dorian crawled in beside the Herald, pressing against his side, his left hand resting on Caz’s chest, over his heart. His sharp jaw rested against his shoulder, and the rogue tilted his head towards him, a content smile on his face.

I love you.

The room was quiet, only the crackling of the fire could be heard. In his dreamy haze, Cazador felt Dorian shift next to him before settling once more, a little closer than before.

“I love you too.” A soft whisper replied. 

Cazador’s eyes flew open, his mouth not far behind. His head snapped to the side, heart racing as he stared at a shy looking Dorian. Caz never thought he’d use the word shy to describe the man lying next to him, but there he was, half hiding his face in the Inquisitor’s shoulder, eyes searching, hopeful and longing. A large smile slowly spread across Cazador’s face, his eyes crinkling with happiness. The mage returned the gesture, a smaller smile on his face as his eyes look down for a second before finding the Inquisitor’s again. A loud laugh erupted from Caz, throwing his head back in pure joy as he pulled Dorian impossibly closer. The mage joined in seconds after. It was safe to say neither of them had ever been so happy in their life.


End file.
